


The Werewolf Handbook, Page 147

by Snegurochka



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-07-04
Updated: 2009-07-04
Packaged: 2017-10-10 22:56:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/105322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snegurochka/pseuds/Snegurochka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone knows that when a person with any werewolf blood reaches 21, untamed sexual urges will manifest themselves and require an outlet. It's a fact. No question about it. <i>The Werewolf Handbook</i> says so, right there on page 147.</p><p>20,000 words. NC-17. Bill/Teddy. Past Charlie/Remus. Assorted other Weasleys. A bit of Andromeda. Teddy is 21 and Bill and Fleur are divorced, so everything is legit. But, on the other hand, don't hold your werewolf fanon too dear. Written for weasley_fest. July 2009.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Werewolf Handbook, Page 147

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to islandsmoke for the beta work. :)

_The Werewolf Handbook_ was something of a sacred document to Teddy Lupin.

A fat, dog-eared copy had sat on his grandmother's bookshelf for as long as he could remember, yellowed with use and always perched just a little apart from the other books, hanging over the edge of the shelf as if it were grasped often and never put away completely. When he was a child, he remembered the book lying open on the kitchen counter while Gran prepared dinner. She'd skim her finger down a page, muttering to herself, before stopping at a certain point, tapping the page decisively, and turning to Teddy.

"There it is," she'd tell him as he simulated a battle between a pair of toy Hippogriffs. "Carrots in your soup _after_ the fifteenth of the month if it's quarter-moon, but not till after the twenty-third on Solstice months." She'd nod, turning back to the pot and throwing in a bowl of sliced carrots, and Teddy would only blink, returning to banging his toys together.

Gran consulted the book on every bit of Teddy's upbringing: how much soap to use in his baths, when to set his bedtime depending on his age and time of month, how much exercise he needed. When he reached puberty and was home on summer hols, the consultations became significantly more mortifying for him.

"Now, dear," she began one night, perching on the edge of Teddy's bed with the book open in her lap. "How often have you been masturbating?"

Teddy's eyes had widened, his balls shrivelling up inside his body. "_Gran_!"

"Well!" She pointed at a page in the blasted book. "It's nothing to be ashamed of, dear. Not like in my day. Now, I might have grown up with sisters, but we heard more than our share of stories about our cousins, and I'll tell you, those Black boys talked enough about their bloody pricks to put a girl to shame!" She tutted, shaking her head. "It was terribly gauche of them back then, but now, as I understand it, it's perfectly normal to have these conversations, especially when your health is at issue!" She jabbed her finger at the book again.

"I'm _fine_, Gran," he mumbled, his face hot.

"Now, Teddy, don't be shy with me." She consulted the page again. "Is it once a week, do you think?"

His face burned. _More like once an hour_, he thought miserably. "Er– yeah. About that. Look, can I talk to Harry about it instead," he added, "or hey, maybe I can just read the book myself?"

She shot him a disapproving look.

"No, really, I'll read it!" he promised. "I'll write you a report about what I learn, and stuff. Just, let's not talk about it tonight." _Or ever, ever again, oh God._ He feigned a yawn. "Pretty tired."

She'd let him off the hook that night, and as promised, Teddy had read the book himself cover to cover after that, reporting back to her on what he'd learned. He hadn't worried too much about its contents; most of it was geared towards real werewolves, not the perfectly normal children of a werewolf parent. He sullenly absorbed the Handbook's information as a teenager, even if he was sure it didn't really apply to him.

There was one page, however, that had held his attention more than any other.

Page 147.

The first time he'd read the page had been during that full read-through for Gran's report, and as he'd already been at a rather delicate age as far as anything to do with his penis or its uses was concerned, he'd quickly found that reading page 147 brought his body to stiff attention and made his prick ache every single time without fail. It became a more efficient wank device even than Evan Smythe's porn collection, and that was saying something. All Teddy had to do was skim his eyes over the words on that page, or hell, even imagine them in his mind, since he'd long since memorised them, and he'd be coming his head off in about four seconds flat. And that was even without looking at the _diagrams_.

He never spoke of page 147 with his gran, and prayed daily that she would never bring it up. And she didn't, thank Christ; Teddy made it through his teenage years free from that particular mortification, and headed off into his twenties happy with the knowledge that her frequent investigations into his metabolism for chocolate, his amount of chest hair, and – this one was a real treat – his urine colour, were finally, blessedly over.

One week before his twenty-first birthday, however, he realised how very, very wrong he'd been.

***

"More biscuits, dear?"

Teddy blinked up into the smiling face of Molly Weasley, pressing a plate on him. "Uh, no thanks, Mrs Weasley. I'm, uh–" _going to have to vomit in four minutes, so, I'll pass_ – "fine."

She patted his knee kindly as she withdrew, placing the platter back on the coffee table. "Well, Andromeda," she said briskly, "what do you think? Would next Friday be better for the ceremony, or should we wait until the first full day of the moon on Saturday? I'll have Minerva send the children home for the weekend."

"Well, I just don't know," said Gran wistfully, sighing. "He's never turned twenty-one before!" she added with a laugh, and Teddy swallowed a dry biscuit that went down like chalk. "Now, what did Bill do when he came of age?"

"Well, now, remember that he wasn't bitten till much later," said Molly with a firm nod, wiping her hands on her apron. "He was closer to twenty-six, I think it was, so he missed this part." She lowered her voice and narrowed her eyes. "Fleur used to say that it didn't much matter, though; he was just as randy as if he'd been bitten before his twenty-first–" She paused, clenching her jaw. "Oh, that girl used to say all _sorts_ of scandalous things to me! Good riddance to bad rubbish, if you ask me," she tutted, wringing her hands, while Gran nodded wisely. "I just wish he'd find someone more suitable to settle down with," she added. "He still has dinner with her most days! Says they need to stay friendly for Victoire's sake, but honestly, she's nearly Teddy's age now."

Gran perked up again at that. "Why haven't you had Victoire 'round lately, Teddy?"

Teddy closed his eyes briefly, tugging at the collar of his robes. "She's busy, Gran," he mumbled.

"Well, after the ceremony, you should give her a call. I bet she won't be too busy for you then," said Gran, sharing a glance with Molly, who giggled and covered her mouth.

"_Gran_!" Teddy covered his face with his hand.

"Witches are attracted to virile men, Teddy," she pressed on, oblivious. "You don't think I married your grandfather for his money, do you? He was _very_ well-endo–"

"GRAN. OH MY GOD."

"What?" She blinked at him. "Oh, Teddy, if you're going to have your coming-of-age ceremony and become a true Werewolf-Blooded Individual, you'll have to be much less prudish."

"I'm not prudish, Gran," he said with as much patience as he could muster.

Just then, he was saved by the banging of the kitchen door as it flew back on its hinges.

"MUM," a voice hollered, footsteps approaching the room, "where're those gloves you use for the gnome dung? Christ, the little blighters've eaten through the pair I left in the shed last time, and I sure as hell ain't picking it up with my bare– oh, hey, Teddy. Andromeda."

Teddy jumped to his feet. "Hey, Charlie," he said with a bit too much enthusiasm. "Gnomes, yeah? Let's go have a look." He started for the door. Charlie gave him a smirk that said he clearly understood if Teddy would rather pick up gnome dung barehanded than spend another second in that room with meddling old women.

"Well, just wait, now," called Molly. "Charlie, grab a cup and have some tea with us before you go back out. We were just planning for Teddy's WBI ceremony next weekend."

Charlie blinked at her, then turned slowly to Teddy and tilted his head to the side. "Page 147?" he asked, biting his lip not to laugh at the heat that spread up Teddy's face.

"Well, it certainly isn't _funny_, Charlie Weasley," his mother tutted, filling a cup and thrusting the lukewarm tea into his hand. "As you should very well know."

There was an uncomfortable pause in the room as Charlie's eyes widened. Confused, Teddy glanced at his gran to find her face had gone very pale.

Charlie coughed. "Right. Yeah. I know." He rubbed at his jaw before draining the tea in two gulps and dropping the cup to the table with a clatter. "Well, nice to see you." He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder. "Uh. Gnomes are waiting."

Before Teddy could beg him to take him outside with him, he was gone.

Clapping her hands, Molly turned a forced smile back on Teddy. "Now! Teddy, dear, which would you prefer after the penis-measuring chant: chocolate cake, or lemon?"

With a whimper, Teddy collapsed back onto the couch, his head in his hands.

***

When he got home that night, he sent Charlie a tersely worded owl:

_OH MY GOD, HELP!!!_

Charlie responded within the hour, and Teddy could have sworn that even the parchment was laughing at him.

_No, don't worry. Bill and I know a few tricks about this WBI business. I'll get him to head Mum off about the most embarrassing of the penis stuff, but apart from that, it's not so bad. Did you go for the lemon cake, by the way? I'm sick of chocolate._

Teddy sighed, flinging the letter aside.

He was doomed.

***

The evening of the ceremony didn't _start_ too badly. In fact, it didn't seem to be too different from any other Weasley family gathering: George was drunk by nine, Harry spent way more time with Ron than Ginny, Albus got something stuck up his nose, Percy and Rose quietly read books in separate corners, Hugo and James mooned Lily at least twice, Victoire sighed loudly about how she wished her mother were there, Molly insisted Angelina wasn't eating enough, Arthur set something small and electric on fire, and Bill downed a shot every time Charlie mentioned dragons.

Teddy stuck mainly to the outskirts of the room with his grandmother, sipping his drink and waiting for whatever trauma was about to be visited upon him. He sneaked glances out the window at the moon whenever he could, watching it creep higher in the sky as the light faded. Just when he thought he might be able to get away without any embarrassing rituals, though, Molly clinked her glass, and the room slowly rumbled to a halt.

"Well, then!" she trilled. "Here we all are, ready to toast an honorary member of our family on one of the most important days of his life!" She beamed, raising her glass.

A rousing shout went up in the room as the happy faces bleared at him, roaring his name. Blushing, Teddy dropped his gaze to the floor.

"Now, according to the _Werewolf Handbook_, Teddy will be going through some significant changes in his body this weekend–" she smiled again, although she couldn't seem to keep the blush from rising on her cheeks – "and we're all here to support him as he comes of age as a fully mature Werewolf-Blooded Individual."

"WBI!" George, Ron and Harry shouted, raising their glasses in a wobbly circle over their heads.

"Whip it out, mate!" added Ron, giggling as George collapsed against him, howling. "Let's get you measured!"

Victoire's face went scarlet, and the younger boys discreetly covered their groins with hands, drinks or potted plants, clearly mortified on Teddy's behalf. Teddy's eyes darted frantically around the room.

"Oh, no. Wait. I didn't think–" he stammered, but Bill saved him, his authoritative voice echoing around the living room.

"I think we can agree to dispense with that part of the Handbook's supposed ceremony," he told them all, folding his arms over his chest. "It's a very old book, Andromeda," he added to Teddy's gran when she looked fit to interrupt. "You know that. Helpful for some things, but surely you've already disregarded the chapter on how to properly conduct a good bleeding after the moon wanes?" He gave her a charismatic smile, but his eyes were stern.

"Well," she tutted, "certainly, that, but–"

"Let's all have a toast to Teddy's birthday," Bill insisted, giving her a warning look, "and take a moment to recognise the heritage of both his father and his mother, which finally comes together today to make him the man that he is."

Gran's mouth snapped shut at the words, and she stepped back into the corner, clutching her glass.

"Part werewolf, part Metamorphmagus, but entirely his own person as well," added Bill, raising a glass at Teddy and inspiring the rest of the room to follow his lead. "To Teddy."

"To Teddy!" they roared.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Teddy caught Bill's eye and raised his glass a little higher in thanks.

"There, see?" a voice murmured in his ear. Teddy turned to find Charlie giving him a lopsided grin. "Told you he'd take care of it. Now go get yourself some cake, and if anyone comes near you with a measuring tape, you scream bloody murder for Bill, all right?" He squeezed Teddy's shoulder and made to move away.

"Wait," stammered Teddy. "You're leaving?"

Charlie glanced back at him, his eyes searching Teddy's face for a long moment and a look of something Teddy couldn't quite place on his face. He looked curious but bereft at the same time. "Yeah," he said at last, forcing a grin. "Enjoy your night, mate."

He moved off towards the door, quietly slinking through the shadows. Teddy was about to call after him when Molly's voice cut through the din once more.

"All right, everyone!" she tinkled, her face lit up with excitement and a hint of sherry. "It's time for our werewolves to head out to the shed for the night!"

"Woo!"

"_Ohhhh_, yeah!"

"Show him how it's done, Bill!"

Whoops, hollers and a variety of rude words and gestures rose up from the room – from the men, at least – while Ginny and Hermione rushed to cover the younger children's ears.

"Oh, _hush_," scolded Molly, scandalised. "George, give me that book!" she barked, whirling around to find George making rude gestures at the explicit diagrams. "They'll be fully _clothed_, of course. It's not 1750 anymore, my _word_." Her palm pressed flat over her bosom. "Well, except maybe for their shirts. No need to ruin perfectly good clothing like that."

Teddy's gaze flew to Bill in time to see his back tense and his jaw clench shut. His face remained outwardly calm, however, as it usually did.

"Mother," said Bill with mock propriety, tilting his head to the side, "is this really necessary? Teddy's fine." He glanced towards Teddy. "Look at him."

"Well, he won't be come midnight, though, will he? You know how it gets, dear. Teddy needs your help tonight; don't be so selfish."

Bill looked annoyed. "I'm not _selfish_, Mum, I just don't think–"

"Now, William, you've already blocked half the ceremony! You can't stop–"

Something sailed through the air towards Teddy. "Heads up, mate!" someone called. Teddy reached his hand out reflexively and found it wrapped around a thick tube of the most expensive non-joke lubricant at George's shop.

"George!" snapped Molly, turning to him as he shoved his hands in his pockets and turned his head away, whistling innocently.

Teddy stared at it, his eyes wide.

"No worries, Teddy! He won't bite." There were more snickers.

"Not sure about that, though, are we?" someone else yelled, and Teddy hadn't time to react before something heavy and metallic hit him in the side of the face. He caught it as it bounced down his chest. When he opened his hand, he found a thick brass... clamp of some kind.

"Ron!"

Helpless, Teddy clutched the clamp in one hand and the lube in the other and looked desperately at Bill.

He was standing near the centre of the room, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You are not serious, Mum," he was muttering.

She wrestled the Handbook from George and thrust it at Bill. "You've read it yourself, dear!" she exclaimed, jabbing her finger at an open page, and all of a sudden, the familiar text of page 147 swam in front of Teddy's eyes. It was the words that had kept him in a near-constant state of arousal for the entirety of his teenage years.

Every full moon for six months after the twenty-first birthday. Sexual maturity. Manacles. Secure location. Another WBI if possible, to minimise danger to others. Snacks should be provided afterwards. And so on and so forth, including all the tremendously unhelpful diagrams of lean, naked men shackled to stone walls with engorged pricks and looks of pure sexual frustration on their faces that had featured in Teddy's masturbation fantasies since he was fourteen – and even in fantasies during some of his partnered encounters later.

Teddy whimpered, trying to keep his brain from veering off into all the bad directions while looking at Bill for help.

Wait. _Bill_.

They wanted him strung up in the shed like that with _Bill_. Bill Weasley. Victoire's bloody dad. The man Teddy had barely spoken two words to while he and Victoire were dating, out of fear for the safety of his genitals. The man with the thick ginger hair that was greying only at the temples, still long and tied back as it had been for as long as Teddy could remember. The man with the piercing blue eyes and lean physique who had both married and divorced a part-Veela woman, for God's sake, who guarded the integrity of his family like, well, a wolf, and who _could_, despite Molly's assurances of clothing, be chained up opposite Teddy in nothing but his earring and the tie holding back his hair, sweat pooling in the hollow of his throat as he stared at Teddy, thrashing against the bonds and thrusting his hips forward in an effort to break free. All in, oh, about ten minutes from now.

Teddy gurgled, slumping into the wall behind him.

"All right, dear?" Gran asked, pulling him upright again.

"You didn't tell me about this part," he said through clenched teeth.

"Well, you read the book, dear! I assumed you understood about tonight."

"Not the– just–" Teddy made a noise of frustration. "I thought it was about cake, and maybe some jokes about growing chest hair! Come on, Gran, you can't honestly believe everything that mangy old book says about–"

"I most certainly can!" Gran glared down her nose at him. "And I suggest you start taking your condition seriously, Teddy Lupin, and that means learning to restrain your... _urges_... during the full moon." She checked her watch. "Go on, then. It's getting late, and by midnight you'll be thrashing something fierce, they say. You'll want to be fully shackled by then. Bill will look out for you; he'll have much more experience with this, of course. Better able to control himself." She nodded as if that sorted it.

With a strangled noise, Teddy bolted forward, joining Bill in the centre of the room. "Okay," he said in a rush. "Let's go, then."

Bill turned and blinked at him. "Teddy. You are not getting locked in a shed with me tonight."

Teddy leaned closer, barely moving his lips. "Fine, but take me out there for _now_, at least, so I can get the fuck away from my grandmother telling me about my 'urges.'" He gave Bill a pleading look, and the corners of Bill's mouth quirked up.

Pushing down a grin, he turned back to his mother. "Right, okay. Whatever the Handbook says." He cleared his throat. "Thanks for the good wishes. We're off, then."

Molly's head whipped frantically to each corner of the room. "But, there's a ceremony, proper procedure to adhere to!" She wrung her hands. "Are you sure you can just–"

"Yep, I'm sure, Mum," said Bill through clenched teeth.

Teddy glanced at the jovial faces around the room and quickly found Victoire by the fireplace, clutching her drink and looking rather aghast. He tried to make an apologetic face at her, shrugging and spreading his hands, but she was just blinking at her father, her eyes wide.

Bill turned to her then as well, as chatter overtook the room once more. He made his way over to her and spoke quietly in her ear, and her features relaxed in relief. He squeezed her arm and she nodded, and Teddy sighed, wiping his brow. Thank God for that, at least. He moved back to Teddy, pushing on his shoulder for him to exit the room ahead of him.

"Leave your wands!" called Ron, amused. "Don't want you breaking free and molesting the rest of us."

Gritting his teeth, Bill paused and threw his wand at Arthur, who was standing quietly by the door, and motioned for Teddy to do the same.

"Got to use the loo first?" asked Arthur.

Teddy shook his head, still mortified.

"Off you go, then."

His face a mask, Bill grasped Teddy's arm. "Where's Charlie?" he muttered, looking around. "He usually, ah, shackles me up."

"Saw him leave a while ago," said Teddy. "Does that mean we can–"

"Afraid not." Bill glanced around the room. "Oi, Harry!" he called, jabbing his thumb over his shoulder. "Come make sure the bonds are tight enough."

Giving them a knowing smirk, Harry downed the rest of his drink and followed Bill and Teddy to the kitchen door, as George led a renewed burst of catcalls behind them.

***

Teddy stumbled into the shed ahead of Bill and Harry and heard the door close. He was just about to start taking his shirt off and spreading his arms against the wall when Harry started to laugh. Teddy turned around.

"Christ, Bill, I love your mother, you know I do, but is she _serious_?" He was gazing around the shed, blinking.

Bill sighed. "Yes, she is, and there's not much sense trying to talk her out of it. She's Wizarding Britain's foremost authority on WBIs, don't you know." He rubbed at his eyes, and his voice dropped the joviality. "It was her way of coping, back in the day."

"Yeah, I know." Harry sounded contrite, squeezing Bill's shoulder. He glanced over at Teddy, and a grin spread over his face again. "All right, mate?"

"Agh, what the fuck?" Teddy's frustration spilled out all at once.

"Hey, Harry, can you do us up a couple of mattresses, maybe some Quidditch mags? I think I've got some work I need to– yeah, here it is." He dug around in the pockets of his robes until he produced a shrunken quill and a stack of parchment.

"Yeah, sure." Harry pointed his wand around the room and performed a few spells, conjuring beds, magazines and a pitcher of water, before enlarging Bill's quill and paperwork. After a moment's thought, he added a small desk and chair.

"Great, thanks. Got to get these numbers done by Monday or the loan to Beauxbatons for transfer students won't go through. Fleur'll do her nut." He grinned.

Harry glanced back at Teddy. "You need anything?"

"I– uh. No." Teddy's eyes darted between them.

"Right, then. I'm off. Ginny wasn't too happy about that nipple clamp. Better make amends."

Bill smirked. "Why, is it yours?"

"Yeah, I wish," muttered Harry, casting a wave over his shoulder as he headed for the door.

Teddy heard the lock click in place. The ripples of a Silencing spell slithered down the walls, and then a soft glow bathed the old shed. It was fairly clean, at least, swept and tidy, but there was no furniture save what Harry had conjured, and all in all, it was rather a depressing place. Not sure which question to ask first, he turned to Bill only to find him already having seated himself at the desk, rifling through his parchment.

He glanced up. "Grab a magazine or something. I've got work to do."

"I– okay. So, _why_ am I in here, exactly?"

Bill sighed. "Well, I suppose you don't have to be." He sat back, folding his arms over his chest. "You can try to go back to the house, or even sneak home – Harry wouldn't have locked it up too tight – but I imagine the old birds will have your sac twisted behind their backs in about four minutes once they find out you've gone. Might as well humour them, at least for one night. We can try to talk sense into them again next month."

"But– okay– but, so, I don't need to be chained to the wall all night?"

"No, and if George ever tries to tell you otherwise, run for it."

"I– okay." Teddy's head swam. "And, _you_ don't need to be chained to the wall all night?"

"No. Definitely not."

"But–"

"Teddy."

He closed his mouth.

"Get some sleep." Bill nodded towards the bed. "If you turn into a werewolf in the middle of the night, I'll use my special powers to hold you down and chain you to the wall myself, all right?" A hint of a smile played at his lips. "Until that happens, don't worry about it."

"I– oh."

Bill turned back to his work, and Teddy watched his back for a moment, wondering what to do. Finally, he sighed to himself and took off his robes. After another moment's thought, he stripped off his shirt and trousers as well, shuffling over to the bed in only his pants. Might as well be comfortable, since he'd escaped the wall-shackling and everything. After the mounting stupidity that had been his twenty-first birthday, he found he was more exhausted than he'd thought. Crawling onto one of the beds, he sprawled out under the sheets and slowly felt himself drifting off, until the light scratch of Bill's quill eventually faded to nothing.

***

The second month approached much too quickly for Teddy's liking.

Old man Higgins mostly gave him late shifts at the potions shop, which meant all the work no one else wanted to do, like dicing bits of dead things that stank to high hell and scrubbing various sticky spills off the floor before he could head home. Gran was insufferable, asking all sorts of questions about how his first night as a WBI had gone and whether he was feeling feverish, or hungry, or excessively irritable as the second full moon after his birthday approached – all code phrases, Teddy was certain, for inquiring after the development of his apparent sexual aggression.

By the twenty-ninth day, he was beginning to wish the aggression she was causing _would_ manifest itself sexually. At least then there would be the possibility that a strong, hard wank would cure it.

Charlie had owled him after his birthday, apologising for abandoning him and swearing that he hadn't known they'd insist on "the shed thing," as he called it. Likely story. Teddy wrote back and called him a wanker, and Charlie reciprocated but enclosed two tickets to the Puddlemere-Chudley match at the weekend, so Teddy forgave him.

"So," Charlie had said during a break in play, still gazing out at the field. "You and Bill, uh–" he'd exhaled, frowning – "have an okay time that night?"

Teddy had shrugged, shoving popcorn in his mouth. "He messed about with his figures, and I went to sleep. Okay enough, I guess."

Charlie had glanced over at him then, looking vaguely surprised. "Really?"

"Well, yeah." Teddy had narrowed his eyes, suspicious. "Why?"

"No, nothing," said Charlie quickly as the game resumed. "That's great. That's exactly what you should do next month, too."

"Do I really have to go?"

Charlie had sighed. "I think my mum will insist, I'm afraid."

The night of the full moon, Teddy gave his grandmother a reassuring kiss on the cheek as she smoothed his clothes and then arrived at the Burrow to Molly doing the exact same thing. Charlie rolled his eyes at her over his cup of tea at the kitchen table, giving Teddy a sympathetic look.

"How're you feeling this month, Teddy?" asked Charlie, draining his cup.

"Fine," he muttered, but then thought better of it. Oh, hell. Why not. "I mean, pretty aggressive." He took a breath, puffing out his chest. Molly's eyes widened. "Sort of wolfy, I guess."

Charlie hid his laugh behind a cough, punching himself in the chest at the look on his mother's face.

"Oh, Teddy, my goodness. I had no idea it could get so bad! The Handbook says it might not be really rough until your third month, but–" She cupped his cheek. "You'll be all right, dear. How about a bacon sandwich for breakfast? I'll have it all ready for you in the morning."

"Mum! Christ, stop fussing over him." Bill climbed out of the Floo, brushing the soot from his thighs.

"You're late!" Molly hurried over to him, ushering him towards the kitchen door. "You were out with Fleur again, weren't you?" she continued in a disapproving voice. "Honestly, Bill, it's not normal. She's got to learn to do things for herself, you know, or at least find another man to–"

"_Mum_." Even Teddy stopped tapping his fingers together at the note of finality in Bill's voice. "She can do more than enough things for herself, and you know it. I _like_ her. She's entertaining." He glanced over at Teddy and gave him a small grin. "Just because I don't want to be married to her doesn't mean I despise her."

"_Well_," tutted Molly, clenching her hands at her sides. "Just. Get _out_ there, both of you," she said at last, hurrying them out the door. Charlie followed, pausing to wrap his arm around her shoulders and give her a squeeze.

"They're all right," Teddy heard him murmur to her, and she sighed.

"I just worry, Charlie! You know how–"

"I know. But they're strong. They can handle this. Bill's been fine for years now, and he'll make sure Teddy learns everything he needs to know."

Teddy glanced back to see her wiping her cheek before shooing Charlie off behind them.

Charlie sighed, rubbing his eyes. "All right, in you go," he said to Teddy, gesturing for him to follow Bill inside. "Bill!" he called, hovering at the door as Teddy stepped through.

"What?"

"Come here a minute."

"Charlie, come on, it's almost time. Mum'll be out here with the chains if she sees us."

Glancing back, Teddy paused, blinking between them.

"Go on in, Teddy," said Charlie, giving him a pointed look. "We'll be right there."

Frowning, Teddy moved inside, noting with relief that there were already a couple of beds set up, and some water in the far corner. He headed over to grab a quick drink, looking back over his shoulder for Bill. Through the open door, he could see the shadows of Bill and Charlie arguing outside, although he couldn't make out what they were saying, save for a few heated words that floated through the night.

"Is that really what you think of me?" That was Bill, his voice low and angry.

He couldn't hear Charlie's response.

"Oh, nice. Younger, yeah, that's my thing? Fuck you."

Charlie grabbed Bill's arm, murmuring close to his ear.

"She was eighteen, you fucking prick, and I _married_ her – or have you forgotten that? Not some one-night stand, just for kicks."

Teddy turned back to the pitcher, his face suddenly hot. The whispers outside grew more heated, and then abruptly stopped.

"Just lock the fucking door," Teddy heard Bill snap, striding into the shed. He flung his robes aside and stood facing one wall in his t-shirt and jeans, his head bowed and his hand curled into a fist against the wall.

"Goodnight, Teddy," called Charlie, and Teddy forced his gaze away from Bill to wave with faux joviality.

"'Night."

The door clanged shut and the lock slid into place. Silence blossomed over the shed for a long moment, and Teddy wasn't sure what to say.

"Uh. There's water, if you want?" he ventured at last, pointing helpfully towards the pitcher in the corner.

Bill raised his head, forcing a half smile. "Yeah. Thanks, kid."

Teddy poured him a glass, trying to keep his hands steady. He brought it over to Bill and handed it off.

"Thanks." Bill took a long gulp, closing his eyes. When he finished, he wiped his mouth and regarded Teddy. "Don't worry about that," he said gruffly, nodding towards the door. "He's worse than Mum sometimes, wringing his hands about things."

"Like what?" The words were out of Teddy's mouth before he could stop them, but he raised his chin and stood by them.

"Like, _things_. I told you not to worry about it." Bill put the glass on the floor and glanced around. "Fuck. I forgot the chess board." He rubbed his forehead for a moment, thinking, and then he stopped, a light in his eyes. "Wait. Let me try something." As his signal, Teddy stepped back and let Bill pace over a few of the floorboards, considering. With a small look of triumph, he stopped over a few in the middle of the room. "Well, I'll be damned," he murmured. "It's still here."

"What is?"

Bill put up a hand to silence him. He ran his hands over his face and then back through his hair, adjusting the tie holding it back and tucking a few stray strands behind his ears. Then he crouched down on the floor and began drawing a series of patterns over it with his forefinger, closing his eyes and chanting softly. When he was done, a door glowed in gold on the floorboards and a handle appeared. He hauled it open and reached in, as Teddy looked on, wide-eyed.

Grinning, Bill began pulling things out and piling them on the floor beside him: a stack of parchment, some quills and ink, a few Quidditch magazines, and some– Teddy squinted.

Yes. That was definitely porn.

"You. Ah." Teddy pointed, then snatched his hand back.

"Hid some things a few years ago, when Mum insisted on doing the spells herself. I figured out a way to get out of the shackles without a wand, but conjuring entertainment from thin air was a bit more difficult. This just takes a few sigils over the wood, and the door opens. Not too difficult without a wand, although you've got to know what you're doing."

Teddy gazed at him, ignoring the porn mags for a moment as he considered just how bloody talented at magic a person would have to be to even think to do the things Bill had just said. "Harry said you used to work in Egypt, with curse-breaking," he ventured, still wide-eyed. "Is that where you learned things like this?"

Bill lifted a shoulder. "Yeah, some. And other tricks I picked up over the years." He glanced up. "You interested in magical theory?"

Teddy nodded, although he'd never given it much thought before.

"Yeah, I'd wager you've got a knack for it, too, with the stunts your parents used to pull." Laughing at what must have been a surprised look on Teddy's face, Bill sat back on his heels. "You _have_ seen that Map of your dad's, haven't you? Bloody brilliant, that thing is. And your mum did a hell of a lot more with her abilities than make pig noses at parties, you know."

Teddy sat down on the floor with him, and they spent what must have been at least an hour talking about the spells and sigils Bill had used to construct the hideaway, as well as both the limits and opportunities of wandless magic. At one point, Bill grabbed the abandoned glass of water and a quill, holding them together and murmuring a few words. When he was finished, the quill had stretched into a tall, thin bottle, filled with the transferred liquid.

"Here." He passed it to Teddy.

Sniffing at the rim, Teddy's face broke into a grin. "Oh, _brilliant_." He took a swig, moaning in satisfaction as cold beer washed down his throat. Bill laughed, then repeated the spell to create a bottle for himself.

After a few sips, Teddy began to relax a bit more. He pointed to the porn mags at last, saying nothing but raising an eyebrow.

Bill smirked. "Oh, come on. I've been coming here every month for years. Gets boring sometimes."

"Boring, or lonely?" teased Teddy.

Bill rolled his eyes. "Both." He kicked a pile towards Teddy. "Go on, then. Have a look."

"Uh, no thanks." His face hot, Teddy pointedly turned away. That was the last thing he needed, getting hard while locked in a shed with Bill Weasley for the night.

Bill glanced down. "Not your thing? Now that's a stone cold lie if I've ever heard one."

Teddy grinned despite himself. "Just, not– now."

"Ah. With me here, you mean."

"Well..."

"That's all right. I don't much fancy having a go at it myself with _you_ here, kid, so we're even."

"Just, you used to be pretty intimidating, you know." It was the beer, dammit, it had to be, making Teddy's tongue rather looser than he intended it to be.

Bill tilted his head to the side. "Did I? Good."

Teddy snorted. "That was your goal?"

"Sure." He paused. "You were fucking my daughter. If I didn't intimidate the shit out of you, what kind of father am I?"

Teddy made a strangled sound, choking on his beer. "No, sir," he said hastily, shaking his head. "Wasn't."

Bill narrowed his eyes. "What?"

Teddy kept shaking his head. "Nope. Honest. Just– snogged her a bit. She wanted to go further; wow, did she ever want to, but– oh, right, okay, so, forget I said that. Just– we never did. She's a very virtuous girl. I– my attention was elsewhere by then."

Bill leaned forward, thick arms folded over his chest. "You fucked someone else while _dating_ my daughter?"

"Nooo. Okay. No. That came out wrong. Just. Didn't want to fuck her. I mean, she's a beautiful girl, of course, nothing wrong there. You raised a fine daughter, sir." He swallowed. "Just–"

"Just what?" barked Bill.

"Just, page 147 started to mean a hell of a lot more to me than it had when I was fourteen," he said in a rush, "and I couldn't stop thinking about it, and that wasn't exactly something I could do with Victoire, so I–"

"Broke her heart," muttered Bill.

"No, sir," insisted Teddy. "Nope. She agreed. Honest. Think she was more interested in Declan Wood by then, anyway, so– oh. No, okay, you didn't hear that from me. Don't look at me like that. I didn't–"

"Declan _Wood_?" exclaimed Bill, rubbing his forehead. "Christ." He glanced up again. "Never have daughters, Teddy."

"Nope, I sure won't, sir."

Bill regarded him for a moment, then smirked. "No, guess you won't, not if it's page 147 you're wanking to these days."

Teddy felt his face heat as Bill laughed, leaning back on his elbows and stretching his legs out in front of him.

"All right, so what about that chapter gets you the most, kid? Clearly, it wasn't the prospect of measuring your dick in front of my mother and your grandmother."

Teddy groaned, hanging his head. "Yeah. No. And hey, you were just about to rip my dick off for dating Victoire! I'm not telling you anything about my sex life."

Bill rolled his eyes. "We've got hours to kill yet, and I don't feel like talking bank codes with you." He gestured over at the stack of parchment.

"I–" Teddy closed his mouth, considering. He _did_ have some questions, and Bill _did_ seem to be more amenable to answering them than he had the month before, and it wasn't like he had anyone else to ask. That bloody Handbook had done more than enough, thanks; he'd rather not consult that thing on any other issues for the foreseeable future.

Bill shook his head at Teddy's continued silence, still smirking. "Ah," he said at last. "Must be the part about your dick growing into some fat wolf sausage, then, eh, if you're so embarrassed about it? Yeah, fair enough. After that book came out, I told George about that one. Think he travelled to Albania and back trying to find _any_ werewolf who'd give him a nip after that, if those were the consequences he could hope for." He grinned, glancing up at Teddy. "It's complete rubbish, though. You must've figured that out yourself by now."

"Right. Well, yes, clearly I don't have a– _sausage_ for a dick, although, I mean, it's not bad, either, so, I don't know, maybe it does have something to do with the wolf blood."

"It doesn't," said Bill reflexively, clearing his throat. He glanced at Teddy. "How big are we talking?"

A hot flushed seared over Teddy's face. "I've had no complaints," he said, lifting his chin. "Sir."

Bill laughed, taking a swig of his beer and wiping his mouth. "Well, then. Good to know." He trained that easy smile of his on Teddy, who couldn't help but grin back, covering the awkwardness of the conversation. Bill tilted his head to the side. "What?"

Teddy dropped his eyes, fiddling with the bottle.

"You want to ask something, so, fine. Ask."

Teddy took a deep breath. This was probably a very stupid mistake, bringing this up, but he was tired of having no one to ask. "So, there's no sexual aggression because of my blood, and no–" he swallowed – "discernible dick size issue."

"Not a one."

"But, okay, is there any wolf-type reason that explains why, uh– my dick doesn't seem to care where I, um, put it?"

Bill blinked at him. "For instance...?"

"Ah. Never mind." Teddy hastily took a swallow of beer, but Bill didn't let it go. He cleared his throat.

"Well, in my worldly experience, you've got three possibilities in one kind of body, and two in the other. And if you're talking about a mix of both of those, then I really can't help you, and if you're talking about the Giant Squid or something, I don't even know _what_ to tell you." He paused, looking amused. "So, which one are you talking about?"

"Ah. Well. Not the Squid. Or the– mix, then."

"All right. Then you've got five possibilities." Bill held his gaze over the rim of his bottle, as he held it up to his lips. "What's the problem?"

"Er. It's okay to have five, then, instead of three? Or just the two?"

Bill shrugged. "If your dick doesn't care, why should you? Are you asking permission first?"

"Of course."

"Well, then."

Teddy rubbed his forehead. "So, okay. Maybe not _five_, since I never really wanted– with women, ah, _there_, but–"

"Teddy."

Bill levelled him with a piercing gaze, his eyes bright and his features set in a way that told Teddy not to bother arguing. A quiet thrill surged through him, though he barely knew why. Something about being regarded so intensely, in the middle of a conversation about _this_ of all things, and just –

"Get your consent, and stay away from my daughter," said Bill slowly, his eyes narrowing. "Beyond that, welcome to adult wizardhood." His gaze shifted at last, moving down Teddy's body before he closed his eyes and tipped his bottle up again.

"Oh. _Oh_."

"Yeah."

"So you–"

"Sure."

"God. Okay."

"Has no one really ever told you this before?"

"Like who, my gran?"

"Ah. Well. What about Harry?"

Teddy winced, remembering Harry's awkward attempt at sex education when Teddy was fourteen, which involved some acrobatics with a banana and a doughnut, and ended with both of them promising never to talk about it again. "Didn't really mention that part."

"Well, there you have it." Bill spread his hands. "My duty is done." He stood up, brushing the dust from his jeans.

"But how do you know it's _not_ because of werewolf blood?"

Bill rolled his eyes. "Because it's just not. What do I have to do to convince you of that?"

Teddy sighed. "I don't know. Nothing. Just, everyone's always said it's such a big deal, turning twenty-one and everything."

"So you're disappointed the earth hasn't moved and you haven't sprouted more foot hair?"

Teddy smiled. "Little bit."

Clapping him on the shoulder as he passed, Bill shook his head. "Pay attention to your dick if you really want to," he said, amused, "and let me know if you start getting uncontrollable werewolf desires surging through it. I imagine even those'll just be because you're twenty-one and need a date, though."

Teddy groaned, covering his face with his hands and trying to ignore the press of Bill's fingers through his t-shirt. "Yeah, all right," he muttered.

Yawning, Bill lifted his hand away and pulled his shirt off, heading for one of the beds. "All right, kid, good talk," he said. "I'm knackered."

Five minutes later, the sound of Bill's deep, even breathing filled the shed, and Teddy sat awake for awhile listening to it, letting it soothe him until his face relaxed into a genuine smile.

He was finally _normal_. Thank God.

***

The third month, Teddy found himself almost looking forward to his night in the shed.

He arrived at the Burrow and was almost immediately enveloped in a protective hug, a broad hand clasped over the back of his head.

"Mmmrf."

"Sorry, mate." Charlie stepped back, clapping him on the shoulder and giving him an apologetic smile. He leaned closer. "You don't have to do this anymore, you know. Just, if it makes you uncomfortable in any way, or if–"

"It doesn't." He surprised himself with the words.

"Okay, but, if Bill ever– just, if you don't want to be in there, you can tell me, and I'll–"

"Charlie."

He closed his mouth.

Teddy smiled. "I don't mind. Really. It's nice to finally– I don't know. Get to know Bill a little bit. Without worrying about Victoire and if he–" He gestured with his hand. "You know. "

Charlie's face darkened at that.

"No, I just mean, without that between us." His gaze drifted over Charlie's shoulder, thinking back to the ease of their conversation the month before. "He's really not a bad bloke."

Charlie sighed, rubbing his fingers over his eyes. "Okay. I guess if it makes your grandmother happy, and keeps Mum from giving Bill a hard time, we might as well stick with it."

When Bill arrived, Charlie followed them out to the shed, waving off Molly's offers to help, and with barely a word, he conjured a chess board for them and left, locking the door behind him.

Bill stared after him for a moment, but then cleared his throat and turned back to Teddy. "Bit shirty this month, isn't he?"

Teddy smiled. "Yeah, guess so."

Bill turned the water into beer again, and they had a few while sitting on one of the beds, playing chess. After Bill beat him for the third time, Teddy leaned back against the wall, pouting.

"It's all maths," Bill told him, tapping his queen on the board. Whirling in his hand, she took hold of his finger and bit him. "Ow. Fuck." He dropped her, letting her roll to her side before she gathered herself and stomped over to whisper furiously to the bishop, who turned a disapproving glare on Bill. He ignored them. "See, there're only a set number of plays, so you've got to calculate the odds of your opponent making a certain move." He started to explain further, but Teddy stopped him.

"I'm not _that_ hopeless," he muttered, suddenly bothered by the pedagogical moment that made him feel entirely too much like he was back at school.

Bill sat back. "No, I know. Sorry." His voice grew quiet. "I used to do that to Fleur all the time. Still do, probably. Drove her mad." He smiled gently.

"What's that?"

"Be a condescending prick. I was a bit older than her, and she was new to England, didn't know the language much, shit like that. I ended up a bit too protective of her. Treated her like she was either a child or an idiot, she said." He glanced up at Teddy. "Oldest child," he muttered. "Hard habit to break."

Teddy smiled. "It's all right. Just don't do it again," he added, nudging Bill in the arm and grinning at him. After a moment of silence, he asked, "Do you miss being married?"

Bill fiddled with the edge of the board. "Yeah," he said at last. "I'm not really one for playing the field. Despite what Charlie thinks," he added with a hint of anger. "It was nice to have that one person who seemed to just... fit. No more looking."

Teddy pulled his knees up to his chest, hugging his arms around them. "Yeah. That'd be nice."

Bill barked a laugh. "You're a bit young to be thinking of settling down, don't you think?"

Teddy shrugged. "Not really one for playing the field, either. Besides, I'm practically a hopeless old bachelor by now, compared to some of my classmates."

"Get some experience under your belt," said Bill, "then you can think about settling down. Otherwise the grass'll always seem greener, and someone will get hurt."

"Thank you, oh wise one."

Bill was the one to jostle his arm this time, and they tussled for a moment, laughing, before they both leaned back against the wall, legs splayed across the bed. "Well, just wait till word gets around that you've completed the six months of virility assessment from the _Werewolf Handbook_; they'll be fighting for a piece of you and your legendary wolf stamina."

Teddy let out a croak, his head hitting the wall behind him. "God, you sound like my gran."

"You _are_ a Metamorphmagus, right?" said Bill. "Why all this emphasis on the werewolf stuff, the half of you that probably _won't_ ever manifest itself, when she could be worried about the part that already has?"

Teddy was quiet for a moment. "I've thought about that," he admitted. "She's never liked it when I Morph in front of her. I've learned to keep that bit quiet. Every since I was a kid – and especially once that Handbook came out – she sort of hushed up the Morphing, and talked nonstop about the werewolf business." He paused, swallowing.

"Ah." Bill pressed his lips together, nodding. "I guess that makes sense, in a backward sort of way."

Teddy snorted. "Confirm through any means she can that my father was a beast?"

Bill looked grim. "I wouldn't put it quite like that, but it might be part of her method of coping, yeah." He paused. "She had a really tough go of it when your mum and granddad died, you know. Really tough."

"Yeah, I know." Taking a deep breath, Teddy felt his eyes well up. "I first figured out how to turn my hair blue on cue when I was about five years old," he said quietly. "I was so excited. I ran into the kitchen to show her, and she– she just stared at me. Then she started crying, and she didn't stop for about three days. Harry had to– come get me, take me home with him for the week. I didn't know why at the time, but I– he told me about it later. Said I shouldn't Morph in front of her anymore, because it made her too sad."

Bill only nodded, saying nothing.

"After that, she started looking into everything she could about werewolves. That Handbook showed up a few years later, and she started carrying it everywhere, looking up every little thing. We started watching the moon all the time, and she'd have me eat different things depending on the time of month, stuff like that." He waved his hand before letting it fall back down in his lap. "I never really believed it, but it didn't seem to do any harm, either. Not like she was pouring potions down my throat or anything; just a few extra carrots on week three and a steak on week four." He managed a half-smile. "I bloody hate rare meat."

Bill laughed at that, reaching out to put a hand on Teddy's arm. Without thinking about it, Teddy leaned into the touch. Bill pulled him closer, slipping his arm around Teddy's shoulders, and giving in, Teddy sighed, dropping his head to Bill's shoulder and letting the long-withheld tears spill from his eyes. "You'll be all right, kid," said Bill quietly, his fingers coming up to rest in Teddy's hair.

They sat together like that until Teddy's muffled sobs turned to faint, even breathing and the yawning light of dawn began to peek in through the high windows, announcing the arrival of a new day.

***

On the fourth month, Teddy arrived early. He gave Bill a warm smile and joined him for a snack and a cup of tea, chatting easily with him and Molly.

When it was nearly time, Bill drained his tea and glanced around. "Where's Charlie?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, dear," said Molly, aiming her wand to direct the empty cup into the sink. "I forgot to tell you: he called ahead to say there had been an emergency at the compound in Wales; they needed him there straightaway. I'll lock you up tonight myself." She gave him a smile and a nod, as Teddy slowly turned his head towards Bill, giving him a pleading look.

He didn't return it, but the look of alarm on his face said enough. "Oh. No, Mum, that's all right. We'll– I'll do it."

"Nonsense, Bill, you can't do it yourself, and besides, I've done it before. You don't trust my wand work?" She smacked him lightly on the arm.

"No, I trust it too much," he muttered, rubbing his temples.

But protesting was futile, it seemed. She ushered them out back and Teddy entered the shed, apprehensive. Bill only gave him a weary sigh and a small shrug. Teddy hoped that special sigil business he could do with his finger on the floorboards extended to busting them out of iron manacles, or they'd both have very sore arms by morning.

Bloody Charlie.

"All right, shirts off, then," she chirped, gesturing at them with her wand.

Bill blinked at her, then swallowed. Teddy wasn't sure he'd ever seen him look so flustered. "Oh. Christ. No, Mum, we really don't need to–"

"Shirts off," she barked, "unless you want perfectly good clothing ripped to shreds. It's quarter till, William, and the moon isn't getting any lower!"

"All _right_." Exasperated, he grabbed the hem of his t-shirt and flung it over his head, bunching it angrily into a ball and throwing it on the floor. "Happy?"

"Yes," she snapped, turning. "Teddy!"

"Okay, okay." His heart hammering, he too pulled his shirt off and dropped it over the end of one bed. He chanced a glance at Bill, whose chest was heaving, his jaw locked and his eyes alight. He wasn't really going to let her do this, was he? He wasn't _really_ going to make them spend the night chained to the wall? Suddenly, Teddy wished he'd paid a hell of a lot better attention in Charms, or spent a hell of a lot more time asking Harry to teach him Auror tricks.

"Quickly now," Molly was saying, shooing them towards opposite walls. "You there, Bill, and Teddy, come over here, dear. That's it. Can't be too close, or the pheromones might get mixed up." She nodded to herself, waiting for them to back against the wall and spread their arms out to each side.

"Just do it," Bill muttered to Teddy, and Teddy breathed a sigh of relief. He must know a way out, then, Teddy thought to himself.

Settling himself against the wall, Teddy clenched his jaw and waited. Molly aimed her wand at Bill first. "_Incarcerous_!" she began, following the initial strands of rope with spells to tighten and solidify them, anchoring thick metal in place around Bill's wrists. She aimed down at his feet, then, performing the same spells to lock his ankles against the wall.

Watching him closely, Teddy was sure he saw him mutter the syllable, "_Fuck_," under his breath when she turned her back. He nearly laughed. This was _beyond_ ridiculous.

"Now you, dear." She approached Teddy and performed the spells again. Sighing, he held still while the manacles snapped into place, his breath hitching slightly at the unfamiliar feeling of being stretched out like this. He was suddenly aware of his near-nakedness, even if it was just his torso. His chest was open, on full display, and the way his arms were spread suddenly made him feel shockingly _dirty_, like a piece of meat slung on the wall to be gazed at. He lifted his eyes to Bill and gasped a bit to see him staring at Teddy – as if he were exactly that.

"All right, you're all set." Molly dusted off her hands and headed for the door. "I'll be by at dawn with some milk and toast," she chirped before clanging the door shut behind her and bolting it from the outside.

The air in the shed puffed with silence, both of them panting at the strain of the position and not quite knowing what to say.

"Sorry," muttered Bill at last, his hands balling into fists beyond the shackles. "Fucking Charlie. She's so far into this whole charade that she would've called the Aurors if we'd refused," he added by way of explanation.

Teddy nodded wearily. "Yeah, all right."

"I can get us out," said Bill, sighing as he tested the movement of his right wrist. "I think. Give me a minute."

As Bill closed his eyes, his arms still straining at various times as his brain must have been flittering over escape possibilities, Teddy found he couldn't take his eyes off him. He was lean but broad-chested, a dusting of ginger hair across his chest and another trailing down below his navel. His trousers hung low from the way his upraised arms were pulling his torso taut, and his muscled biceps and forearms stretched wide across the wall. Teddy was suddenly overcome with the urge to bite his way across that chest, brushing his lips over hardened nipples and moving down, lower, mouthing over Bill's abdomen and –

"Okay, I think I can melt the iron a little bit and expand the bonds. Just let me–"

The more he writhed in the bonds, the more aroused Teddy became, until he had to squeeze his eyes shut to keep a very obvious and embarrassing erection from making itself known. He felt a sheen of sweat break out on his brow and swallowed, panting. His cheeks felt hot and his body was pulsing gently, blood coursing through him even as he tried to slow it. He belatedly realised that Bill had stopped chanting, and he opened his eyes slowly, expecting him to be free.

He did have his feet free, but he'd stopped in the middle of sliding his left wrist out. He was gazing at Teddy, his lips parted and his chest heaving. It occurred to Teddy that as arousing as he thought Bill looked in this dim light, and with these chains, and with this level of undress, Bill, if he were willing, could find Teddy just as arousing in the same position. The thought slammed through Teddy like a tidal wave, and no, fuck, that was it, there was no hiding his arousal anymore.

"Fuck," he breathed, shaking his head and dropping it forward. "You look way too good strung up like that," he added, forcing a rueful laugh. He expected Bill to make some snide remark in return, or at least to bark at him to focus on the task at hand, dammit, but Bill did neither.

"Yeah?" he murmured.

Teddy's head shot up, his wide eyes fixated on Bill. He had finished slipping his hands free, but stayed standing against the wall. He slid them into the back pockets of his jeans and began to walk forward, each step slow but also aching with confidence. Teddy's eyes flitted down his body, positive he could see evidence of Bill's arousal as well through the shadows of the small room. Bill kept walking, one boot in front of the other, across the room until he was two feet from Teddy. His eyes fell from Teddy's face down his body, sweeping over his bare chest and sinewy arms, and Christ, the heat of that gaze was enough that Teddy had trouble not moaning aloud.

He bit his bottom lip instead, trying to control his breathing. Slowly, Bill raised his right hand and took another step forward, letting his fingers fall to Teddy's collarbone. With a maddeningly light touch, he slid them down, fanning out to glide over Teddy's nipples and pausing just above his navel. Teddy did whimper at that before he could stop himself, gasping and closing his eyes.

"Bill," he murmured, barely speaking, and Bill responded by lifting his hand away at last, slowly, and pointing his finger at the manacles to perform the charms to free Teddy.

With both of Teddy's ankles and one wrist free, Bill paused, holding Teddy's remaining chained wrist and glancing back at his face. "Are you sure?" he said quietly, and Teddy's heart began to pound.

Once he was free, anything could happen. _Oh, God, please let anything happen_, he found himself praying in his head. He wet his lips. "Yeah."

Bill finished the spell, letting Teddy's arm fall into his hand and easing it down to Teddy's side. They stood there for what seemed like an eternity, nearly chest to chest, with every part of Teddy's body aching and pounding and screaming at him, and he took a shuddering breath.

Quietly, Bill reached out to slide his fingers under Teddy's jaw, tilting his head up a bit. His thumb brushed over Teddy's bottom lip, and Teddy closed his eyes, letting his lips fall open and his breath catch in his throat.

Bill tightened his grip on Teddy's chin, his forefinger hooked under it while his thumb pressed into Teddy's jaw. His eyes searched Teddy's one last time, and as Teddy parted his lips in a brief gasp at what was about to happen, Bill leaned in and claimed his mouth. There was nothing tentative about it, only Bill's warm lips devouring Teddy's, the surge of pleasure it evoked flying up Teddy's spine. His hands flew up to Bill's shoulders and drew Bill in closer, parting his lips and pushing his tongue against Bill's. The kiss quickly grew frantic, Bill's stronger body pressing Teddy back against the wall as both of Bill's hands came up to frame Teddy's face. His fingers slid into Teddy's hair behind his ears, holding his head where Bill needed it so he could control the kiss completely.

Teddy found himself melting against him, gasping into his mouth and hanging on for dear life to the warm skin under his fingers. Bill's tongue tangled with his, thick and insistent, and Teddy closed his eyes as sensation crashed over him. He'd never been kissed like this, never with this level of blind need and aggression, never so fully at another man's mercy. He submitted to it more easily than he thought he would, meeting Bill's efforts to deepen the kiss but never trying to wrest control of it from him.

"God," groaned Bill, his mouth moving down over Teddy's jaw and neck, biting and brushing his lips over Teddy's skin. Arching his neck, Teddy pulled him in closer, letting Bill wedge one thigh between Teddy's legs and push in hard. Teddy gasped, one hand sliding around the back of Bill's head and holding him in place as he attacked Teddy's throat and back up his jaw line, before claiming his mouth once more.

Teddy's pulse raced, and the thought flitted across his mind that maybe the _Werewolf Handbook_ was right, that maybe men like him and Bill did need to fuck themselves raw every month, that maybe Molly and Gran were right, and – oh God, stop thinking about Molly and Gran – and –

All of a sudden, Bill pulled back, his warm body lifting off Teddy's and leaving Teddy straining forward with his mouth for more. As he opened his eyes, he saw the stricken look on Bill's face as he stared at Teddy.

"I–" began Teddy, desperate to say something to reassure Bill, to make it okay again. "No, just–"

But Bill was already wiping his mouth angrily. He backed away from Teddy, blinking at him, before turning and striding to the door. He banged on it in frustration, leaning his forehead against it while Teddy looked on, unable to form words. Finally, he spread his palm flat over it and barked out a string of words in what Teddy could only imagine was Arabic. The door began to glow a faint blue. When Bill punched it again with the base of his fist, it swung open on rusty hinges.

He strode through without a backward glance, leaving it hanging open. Teddy heard his boots clod over the rough stone away from the shed and through the kitchen door at the back of the house.

"Bill!" he heard Molly exclaim. "What are you doing? How did you get out? You can't leave Teddy out there by hims–"

"Leave it, Mother," snapped Bill, the boots fading from Teddy's hearing. He imagined Bill flinging a handful of Floo powder into the grate and disappearing, and Teddy closed his eyes.

After a moment, Teddy heard Molly mutter, "Werewolves! Always so shirty this time of the month."

***

After assuring Molly that he was okay, Teddy had persuaded her to leave him to sleep on the bed in the shed that night, and reluctantly, she had withdrawn, cursing Bill under her breath. He'd sneaked past her at dawn after sleeping badly, making excuses and promising her that he was all right, and had spent the following thirty days reenacting that night in his head – the sweat, the manacles, the bodies pulled taut... his own page 147 fantasy come to life at last.

But by the next full moon, Teddy was prepared not to go back to the Burrow, convinced Bill never wanted to see him again, but his gran wouldn't hear of it.

"You've two months to go!" she chided him when he told her he thought he was ready to be on his own for the full moon.

"_Gran_." Bill had clearly been completely horrified by what had happened between them, and probably found Teddy repulsive and an awful kisser, too, and now he'd snogged not only Victoire but her _father_, and no matter that he'd rather do it a hundred times more with father than daughter, the whole thing was insanely fucked up, and just –

"Bill is a good man," she insisted. "He'll teach you what you need to know."

Sighing, Teddy headed over to the Burrow more to get away from Gran than to actually see or talk to Bill. He arrived in the back garden and was about to head 'round front when he heard muffled voices near the shed. He hesitated, but curiosity got the better of him and he inched closer, peering out from behind a broad tree.

"Come on, Charlie, just head him off for me, will you? If he even shows up."

"Not till you tell me why! Honest to Christ, what's the big fucking deal? So you play chess with the kid for a few hours, have a nap, maybe get a bit of paperwork done. He can't be that big a pain, is he?"

"No, he's fine, he's just– I'd rather be alone tonight, all right?"

Charlie sighed. "What do I tell Mum? She'll do her nut if she thinks you abandoned the kid before the six months were up. Come on, _what_ is going on?"

Bill was silent for a long time, and Teddy's heart began to race. He pushed down the sound of it and strained to hear them. He didn't hear what Bill said, if anything, but the next voice was Charlie's again.

"Oh, _fuck_ no. No, no, no. You didn't. You did _not_ touch that kid."

"Quit calling him a kid."

"He _is_ a kid! Oh my fucking God, you complete and utter shit. You fucking prick. What did you do? I knew it. I _told_ you not to do this. I knew you'd try something like this. Bloody hell, you are such a wanker. You are such a–"

"Okay, Christ, shut the fuck up," hissed Bill. "Just, what do you know about that fucking Handbook?"

"What?"

"What do you know about– just, about the sex drive, all that rubbish?"

"How the fuck would I know more than you do? You're the werewolf. You're the one who said it's rubbish, that you'd always just as soon go to bed early on the full moon than fuck up a storm like some wild beast."

"Yeah, and that's how it's always been, but now I'm not so sure. And you've– okay, you've not _been_ a werewolf, but you've–"

"Ah. Shagged one." Charlie's voice flattened out, cold and distant. Behind the tree, Teddy's stomach did a slow, nauseating flip.

"No, I didn't mean that was all it was; I know you–"

"No, hey." Charlie forced a laugh. "He was always up for a shag, wasn't he? Sure, we had some good times. Just a brilliant shag. Lots of pent-up werewolf energy." His voice rose until he was spitting the words, and Teddy's heartbeat quickened. Charlie was always so easy-going; Teddy had never heard him sound so angry before.

"Shh. Christ. Okay, I'm sorry. That's not what I meant."

There was another long pause. "Do you have any idea how hard it is to watch everyone making such a fuss over the newest werewolf in the family?" Charlie said at last, his voice so low Teddy had to strain to hear it. "Like he's their very own pet to keep. Christ. That kid's no more a werewolf than I fucking am, but we've got to toast his blood, and his good fortune, and his prick, and his virility, and just–" He paused, taking a deep breath. "None of you have any fucking idea what a real fucking werewolf goes through. I watched it, you know. Eighteen full moons over four years, Bill. _I_ was the one who wiped the blood away in the morning and held him when he couldn't stop shaking. _I_ was the one who made the soup and read him magazines until he was strong again, and then, yeah, whatever time left we'd spend shagging our fucking brains out, because we knew it wouldn't be nearly long enough before the next moon hit, and when it did, we'd have to start all over again, wondering if that was the one that'd finally kill him, if–"

He paused again, making a choking sort of sound, and Teddy heard Bill murmur something to him.

"No, Christ, don't say that. I don't blame the kid. It's not his fault, and it wasn't Remus's, either. It wasn't anyone's. It just happened, all right? Who cares anymore?"

"I didn't know it still upset you this much," Bill murmured, and Charlie choked over a laugh.

"Yeah, I'm such a delicate little flower," he deadpanned. "Fuck off," he added, but his voice was no longer angry. After another long pause, Charlie's strained voice floated over Teddy once more, and the tears he'd been holding back began to spill. "I would've raised him like he was my own, you know. If they'd let me." His voice shook. "I know, he belonged with Tonks's mum, but Christ, if she hadn't wanted him so much, I would've fought Harry tooth and nail for that fucking kid."

Bill paused. "You would've lost," he said gently. "Not because of Harry, but just, the system back then never would have–"

"Yeah," said Charlie. "I know."

Behind the tree, Teddy scrubbed angrily at his face, wondering how on earth _this_ information had been kept from him for so long.

"So, for all aforementioned reasons," added Charlie with forced joviality, "do you think you can refrain from boning Remus's goddamned kid at full moon, please? For me? Jesus. You went to school with his mother, for Christ's sake."

Bill let out a strained laugh. "Can you imagine how fast she'd have my balls in a sling if she were here?"

Charlie snorted. "_Bill Weasley, you cocksucking piece of shit_," he mimicked, his voice high and ferocious, "_I will cut off your balls and thread them up on a string of anal beads and shove them so far up your arse_–" He broke off, laughing. "No, wait – _I will put barbeque sauce on them and roast them over an open fire and make you eat_–"

There was a rustling in the trees, and more laughter.

"Ow! Okay, okay. Now, look." The laughter died, and Charlie sighed. "He'll be here soon. What do you want to do? You can't send him away, and you can't fucking molest him in Mum and Dad's back shed, okay? So what's option three? _Ow_. Quit– fucking–"

There was another tussle, from the sounds of it, before Bill finally spoke. He sounded weary. "Maybe I just need a date. Been too long, if a kid that young is starting to look like an option."

"Well, I mean, he's not James's age or something. _Not_ that I approve," Charlie added, "but you're only ninety per cent perverted, not a hundred."

"Oh, thanks."

"Well!"

"Look. I need to know if there's something to this werewolf sex drive thing after all. We've always assumed it was rubbish, but who knows? I've never been locked in a shed with a randy werewolf kid before, either. Maybe it's pure biology."

"Yeah, and maybe that's the best excuse ever."

"Fuck _off_. What I'm thinking is," continued Bill, as if Charlie hadn't spoken, "I've got to test the theory somehow, with someone other than Teddy. If I can be locked up with a different wolf–"

"The term is _WBI_, Bill. Come now, don't tell me that Ministry campaign fell on deaf ears with you?" Teddy could hear the smirk in Charlie's voice.

"Oh, sorry – a different _WBI_, and not want to shag her, then–"

"Her?" Charlie paused. "And what would that prove, then, that it's just Teddy you want to shag? I don't think you want to go out of your way to prove that."

"Well, first of all, there's only one other WBI–" he drawled the word – "in the vicinity that I know of, and second, I'm not trying to prove that, you prick. I'm trying to prove the opposite."

"So you _want_ to shag Lavender's head off tonight? Oh, let me just give her a quick Floo call. I'm sure her husband'll be thrilled."

Bill sighed. "Okay. Point." He sighed again, groaning. "It's almost time. Bloody hell, I don't _want_ to sleep in the fucking shed tonight. I want to go home and have a beer and sleep in my own fucking bed. Remind me why I've kept this charade up for so long?"

"Because it's funny to see Mum so into it," said Charlie. "Well, it _was_, until you started taking it too seriously."

There was another pause, and Teddy couldn't make out Bill's reply.

"She needs it, Bill, you know that," said Charlie quietly. "She still has to do my laundry, and balance George's books, and bring Percy a hot dinner every Thursday. And she needs to lock you up at full moon so you don't hurt yourself. There's no changing that woman's mind about these things."

The low murmuring lasted another few minutes, and Teddy strained to hear, to no avail. Finally, Charlie started to walk away.

"Go on, get in there. I'll send Teddy 'round when he gets here. _Try_ not to molest him, all right? Christ."

Springing away, Teddy crept around to the other side of the shed, waiting until he heard Bill bang his way in. He followed a few minutes later, yawning and stretching as though he'd just arrived. He glanced nervously at Bill, sprawled in a conjured armchair with a newspaper.

With a weary sigh, Charlie glared at the pair of them before setting the locks. For once, he didn't say goodnight to Teddy.

Frowning, Teddy moved further into the room. "Hey," he said tentatively. Bill glanced up at him, holding his gaze over the paper for a split second.

"Hi, Teddy," he said evenly. "All right?"

"Uh. Sure." He paused, swallowing, unable to stop remembering the feel of Bill's lips against his. "You?"

"Fine. I'm not much in a talking mood tonight, though, and not–" he flinched only briefly, Teddy had to hand it to him – "really in the mood for anything else, either, which should never have happened in the first place." He searched Teddy's face. "I think we just got caught up in the charade of all this," he added, glancing around the shed. "And my mother stringing us up half-naked." He forced a grin. "Sorry about that."

"Yeah," said Teddy, glancing around nervously.

"Don't forget that it's not real," warned Bill, rustling his paper. "That Handbook was written from legends about two hundred years ago. There's nothing scientific about werewolf mating, especially not for half-breed WBI's like us." He gave Teddy a pointed look. "Clear?"

Teddy held his gaze, his mind running over everything he'd heard Bill say to Charlie earlier. His gaze fell down to Bill's lips, and he suddenly didn't care if Bill knew he was looking. "Yeah," he said at last, raising his eyes back to meet Bill's. "Crystal."

Teddy flopped down on the mattress, settling on his back with a Quidditch magazine. He hadn't intended to be seductive, but he soon found that he couldn't quite help it. He'd heard what Bill had told Charlie. He knew Bill was fighting an attraction to him.

He also knew now what Bill tasted like when the moon waxed, how his hands moved over heated skin, how he smelled and how his lips felt against Teddy's throat. Teddy didn't particularly care if it was due to werewolf biology or not; he only knew that he wanted to taste and feel and touch Bill again.

He lay down on his back, knees raised, and folded the magazine in half to read. With his free hand, he fiddled with the hem of his t-shirt, absently hitching it up a bit to expose his belly button and the light trail of hair that disappeared into his trousers. He fidgeted, alternately picking at the loose thread on his belt and lightly scratching at his stomach, letting his fingers slide under the shirt a bit, moving slowly, before pulling them free again and laying them flat over his chest. He chanced a peek from behind the magazine and found Bill's paper sagging down, his eyes locked on the exposed sliver of Teddy's skin.

Bill shifted in the chair, settling his legs wider, the gesture so subtle but unmistakable that Teddy's breath hitched. Quickly, he trained his eyes on the magazine again.

Taking a deep breath, he slowly slid his hand down from the centre of his chest, pausing again to pluck lightly at the hair on his lower abdomen, trying his best to make it look like an absent-minded touch that he was barely conscious of while he was reading. After a few moments, he slid the hand lower, his palm resting flat on his abdomen, while his fingers dipped into the waist of his trousers. He hesitated, waiting, only three fingers up to the first knuckle disappearing under the fabric. It was enough to ignite Bill's imagination, if he were so inclined.

"Stop it."

Surprised, Teddy shifted the magazine aside and glanced over at Bill. His jaw was tense and his eyes flashed, but otherwise he was outwardly calm.

He nodded at Teddy's hand.

"Can't," said Teddy, not even knowing where this boldness had come from. He wet his lips. "Werewolf."

Bill closed his paper, pressing his lips together. "You think this is a joke?"

"A little bit," admitted Teddy, glaring at him. He pointed at the door. "They already think we lock ourselves in here in order to thrash around half-naked and sweaty and full of testosterone, and that's just your mum and my gran! The rest of your bloody family already thinks we're _actually_ fucking. I saw Harry's face that first night; I'm not an idiot. I know what Charlie's so worried about with us. It's already a fucking joke in this family!" He felt his face heat, and he looked away at last.

Bill sighed, closing his eyes and pressing his fingertips over them. "That's not the point," he said at last, opening his eyes again. "Look, I'm sorry you got caught up in this. It was a stupid thing between me and Charlie that went too far, okay?"

Teddy regarded him. He sat up, leaning against the wall and pulling his knees up to his chest. "It was more than that," he said, eyes narrowed, and Bill avoided his gaze.

After a long pause, Bill glanced over at him. "After the war, werewolves still weren't very well accepted in society; you know that. But because of Greyback's rampages, there were a lot more folks who'd been bitten or mauled, like me, but who weren't full werewolves. People like Hermione who were interested in rights for magical creatures started to take an interest in us, yeah? That's when someone found that Handbook over in Bulgaria or wherever it was and translated it for distribution here. No matter how old the bloody thing was and how unreliable the folklore in it, people with bitten family members started to use it as their sacred book." He sighed. "Can't blame them, really. It was nice to have something to cling to, something that seemed authoritative and which, for the most part, told them that their loved ones would be okay, that they could live a normal life, so long as they abided by the book's rules."

Teddy listened quietly, fiddling with a loose thread on his jeans.

"My mother and Fleur got their hands on that bloody thing and started insisting I be locked up at full moon," continued Bill. "Fleur later came to her senses, but my mother would never listen to reason about it. She needed a way to save another son, so to speak." His voice broke a little bit, but Teddy dared not interrupt. "Turned out I didn't mind the occasional night to myself, so I played along. Charlie was the only one who knew it was rubbish, and he was back in England for good by then, so he used to volunteer to lock me up, then sneak back and sit up with me those nights. He needed the company, just to unwind and everything. It was hard for him," he added quietly, "being around anything to do with werewolves." He sighed, rubbing at his jaw.

"Tell me about Charlie and my dad," said Teddy quietly, barely having processed the information himself since he'd first heard it earlier that evening.

If Bill was surprised that Teddy knew of it, he showed no sign. He only shook his head. "That's Charlie's business to tell or not," he said firmly. "I shouldn't have mentioned it."

"I'm not a child."

"No, I know, but it's still not something you need to hear about. It was a long time ago."

Teddy frowned, trying to make peace with the contradiction of what he'd heard Charlie say about him, and his own assumptions. "He must hate me," he said at last, swallowing over the words.

Bill paused. "No," he said softly. "He definitely doesn't hate you. And he never hated your mum, so don't think that, either. He's a pretty forgiving sort of bloke, Charlie is." He exhaled, shaking his head. "I think he loved your dad, maybe more than he's willing to admit, even, but your dad made his choices, and Charlie never held it against any of you, all right?"

Reluctantly, Teddy nodded.

They sat quietly together for a long time, Teddy letting his head fall back against the wall and Bill wandlessly Summoning a cigarette from his discarded jacket pocket and lighting it with a pass of his hand. The smoke twirled up towards the ceiling in a graceful stream, belying the grip of tension still holding the room.

"Hey, Bill," ventured Teddy at last, still gazing up at the trail of smoke straining towards the ceiling.

"Yeah?"

"I like you."

Bill snorted a laugh, then took another drag. When he'd lowered the cigarette to the arm of the chair again, blowing out a stream of smoke, he slanted his gaze towards Teddy. "I like you, too, kid."

"Don't call me that," said Teddy reflexively.

Bill rolled his eyes.

The bright light of the moon filtered in through the high windows, casting Bill in shadow and shading him with a strong, calm aura that made Teddy's pulse quicken. He watched the cigarette meet Bill's lips and felt a wholly unreasonable surge of envy towards the thing. Teddy plucked up his courage. "I liked kissing you last month," he said quietly, his voice low and quavering. He fought the urge to clear his throat and try the words again, instead letting them float out over the room, irretrievable.

"Teddy," sighed Bill, "listen. We can't–"

"Is it possible, do you think," Teddy pressed on, "that we might get around to more than just the kissing?"

Bill was quiet for a long moment. "No," he said at last, but Teddy was certain there was a note of regret in his voice.

"Because you aren't attracted to me?"

Bill pinched the cigarette between his thumb and forefinger, drawing the last bit of smoke into his mouth and holding it for a moment before he exhaled, gazing up at the ceiling. "Because I used to pull pranks on your mum back at school," he said at last. "Because your dad broke my brother's heart. Because my house was the first place we all heard the announcement of your birth. Because you used to date my _daughter_, for Christ's sake. Are those enough reasons for you?"

"No. And you left one off," said Teddy, hating the note of petulance in his voice.

Bill raised his eyebrows at him, waiting.

"Because Charlie asked you not to. That's the only one that matters, isn't it?"

Bill sighed. "No, but it's a fairly major one. And because he's right." He paused. "And I'm not going to ask how you know that, you eavesdropping little brat."

"It doesn't _matter_ what they think!" began Teddy, exasperated. "Why can't you just–"

"Teddy." Bill's low, authoritative voice cut through the night air, and Teddy clamped his mouth shut, scowling. "No. Don't ask me again. The answer won't change."

His mouth falling open again in surprise, Teddy swallowed, leaning his head back against the wall. A wave of disappointment coursed through him, stronger than he'd have imagined, and he bit his lip to keep from begging. He'd said no. That was that.

They spent the rest of the night in silence, Teddy crawling under the sheets of his bed and curling up facing the wall, trying not to imagine Bill's eyes on his back or how Bill's fingers had felt against his skin.

***

Halfway through the following month, Teddy still couldn't stop thinking about Bill. He wasn't proud of it, and he didn't know if anything they might have had could be saved, but he wasn't a Gryffindor for nothing – and he was willing to bet Bill wasn't, either.

Arriving at the Burrow one afternoon and slipping around to the backyard, Teddy plunked himself down on the grass.

Charlie glanced over at him, pausing halfway through clamping his fist around a gnome's throat.

"Hi."

Giving him a smile, Charlie nodded at him. "All right?" He turned back to the gnome.

"No." Teddy steeled his courage. "Got a bit of a problem, in fact."

"Oh." Charlie was quiet for a moment. "Well, out with it, then. I'm not too good at fixing problems, but I've had enough of my own over the years that I might at least be able to give you a sympathetic pat on the back and the spells for the good liquor cabinet." He nodded towards the house.

"Can't ask for more than that." Teddy smiled, but it soon faded. "I want to be with someone who's too old for me," he blurted.

Charlie's hands stilled again, and he stared down at the dirt, his jaw clenched.

Amused, Teddy let the silence stretch out a bit longer.

"Ah, okay. Well, Teddy, let's just–"

"Not _you_, you daft git," he said fondly at last, nudging Charlie's shoulder.

Charlie exhaled a visible sigh of relief, squeezing his eyes shut for a second. "Thank Christ." He glanced over at Teddy. "Don't do that again."

Teddy grinned. "Sorry."

Turning his attention back to the dirt and digging out another angry gnome, Charlie's face grew grim. "I suppose that'd be Bill, then, yeah?"

Teddy nodded, fiddling with a blade of grass. "Yeah."

"That's not just a _little bit_ older than you. We're talking twenty-five years there." Charlie sighed. "He knew your parents, Teddy. Knew you as a baby. It's just that it's a bit–"

"Weird. Yeah. He already told me all of that."

"And when he finished telling you all of that, did he also tell you he wanted to be with you anyway? Because you've also got the issue of Victoire to think about, with this particular older man." Charlie flung the gnome at the charmed wheelbarrow, wincing as it plinked off the side and a new chorus of tiny, angry shouts rose up.

"Not... entirely. But I think he's lying. And Victoire would... adapt. I think."

Charlie paused again, sitting back on his heels and wiping his hand over his mouth. "Well, then, you don't need my permission," he said gruffly, gazing out across the lawn.

"No, but I'd like it. And I think Bill would be less hesitant if we had it."

"I ain't my brother's keeper, Teddy."

Teddy swallowed, pressing his lips together and summoning his courage. "My dad was a fair bit older than my mum, wasn't he?" he said at last.

Charlie's jaw clenched further. "Not that much," he grumbled.

"He was a fair bit older than _you_."

Charlie froze, then turned and stared at him.

Teddy's courage began to drain away. What had he been thinking, trying to bring this up with Charlie? It wasn't his business, and it was almost all based on an overhead conversation anyway, nothing he could admit to Charlie or –

"Twelve years," said Charlie quietly. He began to blink very rapidly, his lips pressed tight. He grabbed a rag nearby and started wiping his hands on it, too rough and for too long. "Bill's been telling you things he shouldn't," he added.

"No, he didn't. I've just– heard things over the years, you know? I didn't mean to upset you. Just–"

"You've got a godfather," snapped Charlie. "Why don't you go ask him for advice?" He flung the rag away.

"Because he's pants at this sort of thing! He gets all embarrassed and sends me to you anyway, doesn't he?"

A smirk tugged at Charlie's lips in spite of the shadow across his face. "A banana and a doughnut," he muttered to himself. "_Honestly_."

"Just, tell me what my dad would say if he were here. About Bill and– and me, maybe being–" He waved his hand.

"Fuck monkeys?"

"_Together_, I was going to say," muttered Teddy, and Charlie sighed.

"He'd be worried about you getting hurt," he said at last, looking into Teddy's eyes, "like he was always worried about _me_ getting hurt. 'You're young, Charlie,' he used to say to me. 'You don't need to be stuck with an old man like me.' Always worried about being too old," he murmured, his eyes faraway, before smirking at Teddy. "God, your dad was boring."

Teddy barked a laugh, as Charlie elbowed him good-naturedly. "Fuck off! He was brilliant, and I won't hear any words to the contrary."

The laughter faded, and Charlie smiled sadly at him. "Yeah, he was," he murmured. "And he'd want you to be happy."

"I think I could be," said Teddy quietly, plucking at the grass. "Give us a chance?"

Charlie regarded him for a long moment, before leaning forward and ruffling his hair. "All right. The rest is up to Bill, though. And if he says no, you respect his wishes, you randy little shit."

"Yes, sir." Teddy grinned. "But he won't say no."

***

The night of the sixth full moon after his birthday, Teddy arrived at the Burrow to find Charlie sitting alone in the kitchen. Glancing around, he gave him a small wave. "Where is everyone?"

"Told Mum to go to bed early, and Dad's in the basement fiddling with some device or other. Everyone else is at their own houses, for once." He paused. "Talked to Bill," he said quietly, clearing his throat. "He's, uh, got no objection from me, if he–" Charlie scratched at his jaw – "if he wants to be with you."

"Oh." Teddy blinked at him, then out at the shed. "_Oh_." He glanced back. "Well, this is a bit of a pervy set-up, isn't it?"

Charlie snorted. "Please don't remind me." He rose from the table. "Off you go, then. I think I'll just– do the spell from here. Or at least as far away as I can."

Grinning from ear to ear, Teddy bounded out the back door. "Thank you," he murmured, pausing to grasp Charlie's arm, but Charlie shooed him off.

"Yeah, yeah. What you should really be thanking me for is putting Mum off the special six-month ceremony she nearly insisted on having."

"Oh, Christ. Yes. Thank you for that." He ran to the shed and got himself inside, letting Charlie lock the door behind them.

Bill was already there, standing against the far wall with his hands in his pockets. The shadowed light fell across his face, catching on the strands of long hair that had fallen free from the tie. As the door wrenched shut and the shimmer of magic to lock it radiated down, Teddy stepped away, walking slowly towards the centre of the room. His confidence suddenly drained away, replaced with a new concern that maybe Bill really _didn't_ want this.

He shoved his hands in his pockets as well, his eyes on Bill.

They stood in silence for several long moments, the shed filled only with the sounds of their breathing. Finally, Teddy couldn't stand it anymore.

"So, uh–" he gestured back over his shoulder at the door – "my gran says that at the sixth month things might get really bad, with the testosterone and all. Had to escape a rather mortifying conversation about werewolf mating, actually, after trying to convince her that you really weren't that sort of wolf." He gestured helplessly. "Turns out she's got all sorts of... advice."

Bill barked a laugh, then pinched the bridge of his nose. "God, this is so absurd. How is it possible that they really believe we've been conducting any sort of werewolf rituals in here all this time?"

Teddy shrugged. "They must see something we don't," he ventured. "Must think we'd make a good pair."

Bill was silent again. Teddy began to walk forward, his steps echoing around the shed as he slowly approached Bill. Bill let him come, saying nothing but simply waiting on the other side, regarding Teddy intently. Teddy stopped with about a foot's distance between them. He held Bill's gaze for a long moment, then slowly brought one hand up to brush the stray strands of hair off his face, tucking them neatly behind his ear.

"Even though it'd be easy enough to do, I've never had long hair," he said softly, relishing the feel of Bill's hair between his fingers. He slowly let his hand drop back to his side, watching Bill's mouth quirk.

"Probably for the best," murmured Bill. "If we both had it, it'd just get too tangled up."

The old shed throbbed with silence again as Teddy processed the implications of that statement, and when he did, a soft cry fell from his mouth entirely against his will. He launched himself at Bill without thinking, and Bill caught him and hauled him in, immediately grabbing him around the back of the neck with one hand and bunching a fist in Teddy's t-shirt with the other.

Their mouths crashed together furiously, and Teddy's knees nearly gave out at the sound of the deep, guttural groan that rose from Bill's chest as Teddy pressed him back against the wall. A day's growth of stubble on Bill's chin and jaw scraped deliciously at Teddy's skin, and he moaned, pressing their chests together and deepening the kiss until he felt like he and Bill were trying to devour each other.

"Don't you dare stop," Teddy murmured against Bill's lips when he felt him begin to turn away. "Don't you dare walk out on me again." He claimed his mouth again, parting his lips to let his tongue tangle with Bill's, and Bill's grip only tightened around the back of Teddy's neck. His fingers pushed up into Teddy's hair, his big hand spread over the back of Teddy's head, as he took control of the kiss from Teddy.

"Teddy," Bill gasped when they broke apart again, the word at once an endearment and a warning.

"Don't you _dare_," Teddy repeated. He stepped back and pulled his shirt over his head as quickly as he could, not giving Bill time to change his mind or over-think things. He threw it to the floor and started in on Bill's, unfastening the buttons with fumbling fingers. When it was finally open, he shoved it off Bill's shoulders and let it hang halfway down his biceps, too distracted by the sight of Bill's bare chest to finish undressing him just yet. He smoothed his fingers through Bill's smattering of chest hair, then back up over his shoulders, burrowing his head in the crook of Bill's neck and moving his lips over Bill's throat.

"Christ," breathed Bill, tilting his head up as his own hands roamed over Teddy's bare back.

"Don't you _dare_," murmured Teddy one more time, and Bill choked out a laugh, drawing him in closer.

"I won't," he gasped. "I can't stop."

Teddy raised his head at that and held Bill's gaze. "Yeah?" he murmured.

Bill closed his eyes briefly, his fingers threading through Teddy's hair. "Yeah."

Grinning, Teddy stepped back and yanked his jeans down at that, stumbling out of his boots and socks before discarding the lot. He grabbed Bill's arm and hauled him over to the mattress, falling onto it with a groan and pulling Bill down on top of him.

"Hold on," growled Bill, rising again to finish undressing. Teddy lay on his back with one knee up, his hand drifting down to his prick as he watched Bill. He stepped out of his boots and trousers but paused, glancing at Teddy, before sliding a thumb across the band of his pants. Teddy's mouth went dry at the sight of the bulge between Bill's legs, his mind whirling at the knowledge that he was the cause of it.

He quickly pushed himself up on his knees and slid forward, running his fingers and then his mouth over Bill's cock under the tight fabric. "God, you smell good," he whimpered before he could stop himself, and Bill groaned.

"Wolf pheromones," he deadpanned and, wide-eyed, Teddy pulled back to look up at him.

"Oh, you evil son of a bitch," he said, laughing, as he pulled Bill's cock free, snapping his pants around his thighs, and immediately pressed his tongue to it. "Why don't you see how far you can get that wolf prick of yours down my throat, then," he whispered in challenge, before wrapping his lips around the head.

Gasping out a laugh, Bill clenched his fingers in Teddy's hair. "All right," he rasped.

Teddy's heart hammered in his chest as he closed his fist around the base of Bill's thick cock and took it into his mouth. He _did_ smell good, Jesus, and he tasted bloody gorgeous, strong and aroused and with an aura of pure masculinity. He worked Bill's length into his mouth, teasing him with his tongue before pulling back, enjoying the way his lips slid over him so smoothly. Bill's thighs tensed and he thrust back in, breathing hard. Teddy splayed his free hand up over Bill's abdomen, stroking his fingers over the clenching muscles there and marvelling at how much he already loved every bit of Bill's body – rough with use and hardened with experience, it was nothing like the hairless, smooth bodies of the boys he'd been with in the past. He'd never been attracted to an older man before Bill, but now he could think of nothing else but how badly he wanted those years of experience put to use on Teddy's body.

No more fumbling, Teddy was certain. No more cocksure little bastards who only wanted to get off and leave.

Bill withdrew slowly, his lips parted as he gazed down at Teddy. Wiping his hand slowly over his swollen lips, Teddy wordlessly moved backwards on the bed. Bill pushed his pants off at last and then kneeled down on the bed, crawling towards him. The other men he'd been with would have come in Teddy's mouth by then, he realised, a slow smile spreading over his face as he chalked up one more reason in favour of older men:

Stamina.

Bill hovered over him and leaned down to kiss him again, rough with passion. Teddy arched up into the kiss, moaning at the feel of Bill's wet cock sliding over his stomach. His moan turned into a hoarse cry as a tightness enveloped him. He opened his eyes to see Bill wrapping his fist around both of them, pressing their pricks together. He didn't start stroking them, not right away, but only let his thumb play with one side of Teddy's cock, a light, feathery touch that nearly undid him in contrast to the tight pressure around the rest of it and the feel of his saliva sliding from Bill's cock to Teddy's.

"Misjudged you," murmured Bill, biting his way down Teddy's chest. "Not quite the blushing virgin I thought you'd be."

Teddy gasped out a laugh. "Is that what you wanted?"

"Christ, no," growled Bill. "That's what I was afraid of, though."

Reaching down to tilt Bill's head up, Teddy looked into his eyes. "Don't be afraid of me."

"Twenty-one going on forty, are you?" grumbled Bill, dropping his eyes.

Teddy forced them up again, pressing his fingers around Bill's jaw. "No," he said, panting, "but I'm not a child, and I'm definitely not a virgin, and–" he swallowed – "I want you so fucking much. Isn't that enough?"

In response, Bill bent down to claim Teddy's mouth again, his tongue thrusting gently between Teddy's lips even as his fist increased the pressure on Teddy's prick. "Yeah," he breathed against Teddy's mouth. He stilled his hand, trailing steady fingers up Teddy's prick. "You want it like this?" he rasped.

Teddy moaned, arching his back again to get more contact. The thought of coming over Bill's hand, together with him, slammed through his mind and made him shudder. "Fuck yes," he murmured, but his hand shot out to grasp Bill's wrist before he could resume his position. "But no, not tonight. I want more."

Searching his face, Bill wet his lips and dragged his hand down, over Teddy's cock and balls until his fingers brushed between Teddy's legs.

Teddy's back arched, and he spread his legs. "Yes," he breathed.

Bill teased him with his fingers for a while longer, stroking gently from the sensitive skin of Teddy's balls down to his cleft and back, until he was shuddering with want. Watching him carefully, Bill began to smirk at Teddy's obvious arousal. He tilted his head to the side. "What are you so bothered about?" he asked gruffly, his eyes dancing in the soft light, and Teddy groaned in frustration.

He sat up, dislodging Bill's hand, and grasped his face. He pulled him down for a long kiss, trying to convey the urgency of his body. "You," he panted at last, breaking away, and Bill laughed softly, nuzzling his ear.

"Turn over, then," he whispered, his voice warm and rough in Teddy's ear. With a soft moan, he obeyed, flipping onto his stomach and instantly pushing back when he felt Bill's hands skimming down his back and over his arse. He dropped down to his elbows and spread his legs, unashamed at how eager he must look. Bill didn't seem to mind, dropping kisses down Teddy's back until he reached the cleft of Teddy's arse. He paused only briefly before moving lower.

"Oh, God," whimpered Teddy, squeezing his eyes closed. "No wands, though," he managed, glancing over his shoulder. "No spells."

Bill raised his head, a look of pure want on his face. His parted lips were wet and his cheeks flushed. "So?"

"Just–" Teddy swallowed, but Bill seemed to sense his meaning.

He bent down again and licked a small trail up the very top of Teddy's cleft, making him shiver, before lifting his head again. "You clean?" he murmured, and Teddy's knees nearly gave out.

"Yeah," he panted. "Oh my God. Oh, Christ."

With a low, slow laugh, Bill ducked his head down again, and Teddy dropped his head between his shoulders. He felt Bill's sure hands against his arse, his thumbs pulling Teddy apart, and then the warm wetness of Bill's tongue on him, slow and insistent. Everything around them melted away at that, and Teddy lost all abilities for coherent thought. The stuffy shed faded away, the entire bloody game about werewolves, _everything_ ceased to have meaning for him as his world narrowed to only the two of them on that old mattress, the sheer intimacy of the act making Teddy's toes curl and his heart tremble.

Sizzling flashes seared up his spine and through to his cock with every touch of Bill's tongue. Teddy could no longer tell if the moans he heard were still in his head or actually spilling out of his mouth, but he barely cared. He pushed himself further up on his knees and spread his legs, letting Bill go as deep as he could, that warm, thick tongue entering him and making him fall completely apart.

"Fuck me," he choked out at last, slamming his fist against the pillow and gasping. "God, _fuck_, just–"

"Easy," said Bill quietly, slowly withdrawing and breathing hard across Teddy's sensitive skin. One palm moved in slow circles over the small of Teddy's back, at once insistent and reassuring. "You sure?"

Teddy half-laughed, half-groaned, turning to glare over his shoulder. "What did I tell you?" he snapped, his patience at an end. "Not a kid, and not a virgin." He paused, panting. "_Please_."

Bill said nothing, but Teddy could hear his shaky intake of breath. He lifted himself away from Teddy's body for a moment, and Teddy again marvelled at the wandless magic skills Bill had honed after so many years in this bloody shed every full moon. He Summoned a tube of lubricant from the pocket of one or another item of clothing discarded across the room, and Teddy refused to think about which of their relatives had gifted them with that. He steadied his breathing, focusing on the cool air that whispered over his bare skin, and then Bill's hands were back, smoothing over him and working inside of him all at once, the sweep of fingers over his spine and down his cleft merging almost into one. He pressed back with a gasp as the fingers entered him easily, saliva, lubricant and sheer arousal already making him relaxed and open. The sensation of Bill's fingers inside him made his thighs tremble, desperate for more.

Bill groaned over his back, his fingers sliding in further. "You loose fucking whore," he whispered, and the shock of the words made Teddy gasp, a naughty thrill jolting up his spine.

"Fuck off!" he murmured, only half-laughing, but Bill gripped him hard around the waist with one arm while the other hand worked three fingers inside him.

"Oh, I don't think so," he muttered over Teddy's back, withdrawing his hand at last. He wasted no time moving between Teddy's legs and positioning his cock, and Teddy's legs slid even wider, nearly collapsing as Bill pushed forward. Bill gripped his hips and slid in hard, hauling Teddy back over his cock until he was fully inside, the backs of Teddy's thighs pressed tight against the front of Bill's. Bill pulled him up into a kneeling position then, sinking in even further as Teddy trembled, panting, his back coming to rest against Bill's muscular chest.

Bill's teeth scraped lightly over Teddy's shoulder and neck, his heart hammering at Teddy's shoulder blades.

"All right?" he whispered, nipping at Teddy's earlobe, and Teddy could only let out an incoherent whimper. Bill's prick felt huge inside of him, hot and hard and desperate, and he ground down in small circles, eager for Bill to move. "Fuck," breathed Bill.

Grinning over his shoulder, Teddy lifted up a little bit, relishing the slight tug of pressure that pulled at his insides as Bill withdrew. He paused for a split second and then slid back down, both of them groaning at the sensation. Teddy turned his head to capture Bill's mouth, one hand reaching around to slide the tie from his hair. He gasped against Bill's lips as a cascade of hair swept over his shoulders and neck, and Bill groaned out a laugh, his tongue still tangled with Teddy's.

"You like that?" he teased.

Teddy only moaned again, biting at Bill's lips. "I said, _fuck me_," he murmured, pulling back to look into Bill's eyes. The level of arousal he saw there nearly unhinged him; he could still scarcely believe that Bill could possibly want this as much as he did, but here he was, balls deep in Teddy and pulsing, aching for more. His hand trailed up Teddy's back in a remarkably tender gesture, and Teddy tried to relax, comforted by the knowledge that Bill Weasley never did anything he didn't want to do, and if he'd decided to say _no_ to Teddy again tonight, that would have been the end of it.

But he hadn't.

The gentle hand on his back suddenly turned ferocious, and Bill pressed Teddy back down to the bed. He gave a shout when Bill pulled back harshly and thrust back in, his fingers hard against Teddy's hips and his cock pistoning in and out of his body. Teddy grasped at the thin sheets, panting, his body slowly catching fire. The dull, thick sensation in his arse transformed into gathering pleasure, snaking up his spine and creating white sparks behind his eyes. He pressed his forehead to the pillow, shoving back to meet Bill at every thrust.

He had the passing fancy to wonder if this really was how werewolves fucked, hard and dirty in a shed at full moon, and the very thought of what they must look like nearly undid him. Bill's breathing increased behind him, and Teddy felt the first pulses as Bill's cock swelled inside him. His thrusts picked up until he was driving desperately into Teddy, hauling him onto his cock over and over again and muttering his name and God's and a fair bit of filth in between.

Teddy's last coherent thought was that he would never, ever have sex this good with anyone else again, and that he was going to do everything he goddamned could to keep Bill Weasley in his bed for as long as possible – and bollocks to anyone who tried to keep them apart.

With a shout and the bruising press of fingers against Teddy's skin, Bill came with a shudder, emptying himself inside of Teddy. Pulses of warm come splashed inside him, the sensation pushing him over the edge as well. As if sensing it was imminent, Bill's fingers closed around Teddy's prick, and the pleasure of Bill coming inside him combined with the jolt of warm breath over his back made Teddy's prick swell and burst. His release covered Bill's hand as Teddy moaned, collapsing to the bed.

Bill reluctantly lifted himself off Teddy, withdrawing slowly and with care but still managing to jostle Teddy's sensitive nerve-endings. He gasped, his eyes fluttering closed briefly, before turning and smiling at Bill in reassurance. "S'okay," he mumbled before his eyes drooped shut again. "Feels good."

His chest still heaving, Bill flopped onto the mattress beside him and threw his arm over his eyes. "Jesus fucking Christ," he muttered after a moment.

Teddy cracked an eye open, grinning. "Good?"

Bill moved his arm up a bit and peeked out, still panting. He regarded Teddy for a minute before the corners of his lips quirked up. "Not bad," he said, shrugging. "Ow. Oh, you little–"

"Not _bad_?" Teddy sprang up and straddled him, wrestling his arms down to the bed and pinning his wrists back. Bill looked up at him, shades of amusement and renewed arousal on his face. "Admit it," growled Teddy. "That was fucking fantastic, and you should have done it months ago."

Bill laughed, pulling Teddy down and kissing him hard. Teddy melted against him, sweaty and sticky and floating on cloud nine. The kiss turned tender, Bill lightly exploring Teddy's mouth and tangling just the tip of his tongue with Teddy's as he pulled back, gazing up at him. "It was pretty good," he said mischievously, brushing a strand of hair off Teddy's face.

Rolling his eyes, Teddy lay down beside him again and nestled against his chest.

He dozed off, not sure how long he'd been asleep before he woke to the press of kisses against his shoulder and the gasping, barely-awake erotic sensation of being entered again. Curled on his side, he shifted his legs and pushed back, moaning softly as Bill gripped his hip and settled his cock inside Teddy once more. With an achingly slow pace, Teddy's eyes fluttering closed as he floated between dream and reality, Bill's murmured words washed over him, bringing him to the edge again and sending him tumbling over.

They spent the rest of the night alternating between dozing and exploring each other's bodies in the soft moonlight, light touches quickly replaced by scratches and thrusts, gasps turning to shouts and then back to whispers. Teddy didn't know what the morning would bring and didn't want to; he only stretched out under Bill once more and took what he could, hoping the strength of the moon would keep dawn at bay just a little while longer.

***

In the morning, they dressed quietly and with frequent wincing at the stickiness, Bill muttering about how he was bloody well going to bring his wand in next month. Evidently, his wandless skills did have limits.

Teddy raised his eyes from where he'd been fastening his jeans. "Next month?" He tried to keep the note of hope out of his voice.

Bill smiled. "We'd have to make some adjustments to page 147, of course," he mused, scratching his jaw. "Six months are clearly not enough. What do you say to eight?"

"_Twelve_, at least," Teddy shot back, folding his arms over his chest. "And check-ins every week in between, to guard against... unforeseen side-effects."

"Twelve!" grumbled Bill. "What makes you think you won't get tired of me long before then? You'll run off to find some bubble-gum chewing teenager to capture your heart." He crossed the little room, standing before Teddy and arching an eyebrow at him.

Teddy only reached out and curled his fingers into the waist of Bill's trousers, tugging him closer. He kissed him confidently, his fingers pushing lower as he relished Bill's low moan against his mouth. When he pulled back, he narrowed his eyes. "I won't get tired of you," he murmured.

Bill traced his fingers down the side of Teddy's face. He reached Teddy's chin and turned it towards him, leaning in for another slow kiss. "My very own werewolf pup," he murmured. He pulled back, sighing. "Bloody hell."

Grinning and swatting at him, Teddy took his hand and made for the door. It had been unlocked at dawn, as usual, and they stepped into the bright sunshine of the backyard, shielding their eyes. Unable to help himself, he grabbed Bill one more time and, laughing, pressed him up against the shed. He kissed him soundly, gasping against his lips as Bill's large hand wrapped around the back of his neck and threaded up into his hair. A feeling of warmth washed over him and he was thankful, for the first time in his life, for that bloody _Werewolf Handbook_.

***

In the kitchen, Molly had her face pressed to the window, eyes wide and mouth falling open. "Andromeda!" she cried. Turning, she waved her hand frantically before pointing at the pane. "By Merlin's word, you were _right_, dear! It must have been the pressure of that sixth month that got to them."

Joining her at the window, Andromeda gazed out, sighing. "Well, the Handbook said that might happen." She nodded wisely, sipping her tea. "I told Teddy to mind his bum, you know; that's all those older werewolves would be after, from what I've read. Told Nymphadora the same thing, you know, when she started dating–"

"Oh! But Bill certainly would never–"

"Well, I dare say he just _did_, dear."

"I–" Molly clutched her chest, turning to the window again, as the men in her backyard pressed together urgently outside the shed. "Do you think so? But, the chains!"

Andromeda sighed sadly. "That boy of yours, Charlie? He never had much talent for magic, now, did he? He must have done them up wrong."

"Now you wait just a minute."

"Molly!" A mischievous grin tugged at the corners of Andromeda's mouth. "You did say you wished Bill would spend less time with his ex-wife, didn't you?" She nodded towards the window. "Looks like that won't be a problem anymore."

Molly followed her gaze, biting her lower lip as a grin threatened to overtake her. "Oh, you're perfectly awful," she tutted, but her eyes danced. "But I suppose it won't be, no. Pity," she sniffed. "She's such a lovely girl."

Andromeda smiled. "Of course she is. Now." She moved back to the table, scanning her finger over the words on page 147 to make sure they hadn't missed anything. "Looks like that takes care of that, then," she decided, straightening up. A brief whisper of nostalgia tugged at her, but she shook it off, determined, for Teddy's sake, to let it lie.

Molly nodded, wiping at her eyes.

Andromeda ventured one last glance out the window in time to see Teddy's brown hair flash to purple for a split second as he smiled at something Bill was murmuring in his ear. A jolt seared down her chest, but she lifted her chin, reaching out to take Molly's hand. So. Both of her Metamorphmagus children had found werewolves to love, it seemed, despite her best efforts. Nothing for it, then, but to make sure Teddy was happy.

She closed the _Werewolf Handbook_ firmly, smoothed her palm over the front cover and then reached for another cup of tea.

 

-fin-


End file.
